


Colorblind

by nonaestheticwhore



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Crushes, Dissociation, Dreams vs. Reality, First Kiss, First Meetings, George is colorblind, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Internet friends meeting, Irrational fear of flying, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Panic Attacks, Sexual Content, Sort Of, lowkey though - Freeform, not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28569336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonaestheticwhore/pseuds/nonaestheticwhore
Summary: George doesn't like this new feeling he gets when Dream says something towards him, but with a group meetup happening in days, he has to deal with it and the vivid dreams that come alongside it.Story and chapter titles from Colorblind by HalvorsenQuick note: I don't mind if content creators know about this or my other works, just please do not shove it in their faces as I assume it gets annoying :)[I will remove this story if any person mentioned within it expresses discomfort]
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 56
Kudos: 412





	1. Blue Skies On A Broken Sea

George’s skin felt like it was on fire. Soft hands that gently caressed his body sending shockwaves through him. Everything felt so real, the shirt on him, the sun around him, the person in front of him. His eyes opened, meeting green ones.

“GEORGE!” Sapnap’s voice snapped him out of his daydream, making him flinch and causing his elbow to hit the glass of water on his desk.

“Fuck!” He hisses.

He quickly grabs a towel to clean the spilled water up. He could hear his friends laughing at him.

“It’s not funny,” He grumbles, setting his headset back over his ears.

“It kind of was,” Dream says between giggles, George’s heart fluttered.

He was suddenly extremely grateful that he wasn’t streaming.

“My chat is freaking out because George swore!” Sapnap laughs, “Guys he knocked his water over, he’s okay.”

“I’m fine chat,” George confirms, trying to get the red flush on his face to go away. He didn’t realize he had let his thoughts wander that far.

“We do have an announcement though!” Dream speaks up. George sat up straighter, knowing what Dream was about to say, “The Dream Team, including Bad, Ant, Velvet, Punz, and Sam, as well as Karl and Quackity are all meeting up in three days!”

George watches Sapnap’s chat lose it. Everyone was freaking out, George couldn’t blame them. He was excited to meet everyone for the first time. His mind wandered back to the green eyes from his daydream and he wondered if Dream had that many freckles or if his eyes were as green as George liked to think.

“You excited Gogy?” Dream asks.

“Yeah!” He’s glad he heard the question, “It’ll be my first time seeing Dream’s face.”

“You’re only excited for Dream?” Sapnap moans overdramatically, “How could you Gogy? I thought we had something!”

He scoffs at the younger boy’s antics, “I hate you so much.”

The two others break into laughter again. God, Dream’s laugh made his chest tighter, the tips of his ears going red. He hated feeling like this. He hadn’t felt like this until a few weeks ago. He couldn’t even remember what caused the feeling in his chest to bloom. He tried to ignore it, not wanting to deal with it. But the longer he felt that way, the warmer he got. He didn’t want to accept the feelings he had for his best friend, it felt wrong. He didn’t want to ruin the friendship he had built up.

“Alright I’m gonna end the stream here guys! Make sure to keep an eye out for a vlog! And I promise this one is real,” Sapnap teased causing George to roll his eyes.

“Byee” Both him and Dream say at the same time. George watches Sapnap’s stream go dark.

“You both are children,” George says as soon as the stream ends, “How am I still friends with you?”

“Because you love us,” Dream whines.

He inhales sharply, “Yeah, whatever. I have to go.”

Complaints rise from both of his friends.

“You’re just going to go sleep some more!” Sapnap whines.

“Exactly,” George says, “I’ll talk with you guys later, goodnight.”

“Night Gogy!” Sapnap yells.

“Night George, love you,” He could hear the smile on Dream’s face.

He disconnected from the call before covering his face with his hands. He could feel the heat that had spread from his ears down his neck, he hated that feeling. This was so wrong, letting himself feel this way simply from hearing his best friend say “I love you”. 

He’d sleep it off, just like he had done every other night before. The thoughts couldn’t follow him into his dreams. At least, that’s what he thought as he threw himself onto his bed. Pulling up the covers, he already could feel his eyelids drooping. 

He startled awake, panting heavily. As he tried to regain his senses, the first thing he noticed was the heavy weight around his waist, fueling his panic. He turned his head slowly, trying not to wake whoever had found their way into his bed when the sight of dirty blonde hair and freckles made his breath catch in his throat. There was no way he was seeing this right. He shakily reached over and gently placed his hand on the top of Dream’s head.

He could feel his hair, it was surprisingly soft. He left his hand fall to the side of his friend’s face, tracing his thumb across Dream’s cheekbone. 

A groan sounded from deep in Dream’s chest causing George to jump. Green eyes slowly blink open to look up at him, a smile graced his features.

“Morning,” Dream mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

“M-morning” George stutters, going to pull his hand back when his wrist is caught.

He’s pulled into Dream, his head resting on the taller man’s chest. 

“It’s too early, let’s go back to sleep,” Dream sounded half asleep already.

The warmth surrounding him made George feel safe, as if nothing could touch him. He had nothing to focus on besides the feeling of Dream tracing small shapes into his side where his shirt had exposed some of his skin. He melted into the touch, finding a strange comfort in it. Without realizing, he had let his eyes drift shut and sunk back into sleep.

When he awoke a second time, he was cold. Much colder than he had been previously. He turned to see where Dream had gone only to realize the bed sheets were different. He shot up, his mind finally processing he had dreamed everything.

“What is wrong with me?!” He whisper shouts to himself.

This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be having those types of dreams about his friend. He didn’t get them about Sapnap, so what was different about Dream? Why did he feel so warm whenever he spoke or showed any normal type of platonic affection towards him? He shut his eyes and hung his head, taking a deep breath to calm his raging mind.

A message coming through his phone startles him back to the present. He didn’t have any plans to stream, nor did any of the people he normally streamed with. 

_just checking in on you, you seemed off last night :)_

His heart leaped into his throat. Dream was worried for him. He cursed himself for making his friend worry before sending a quick text back.

_i was just tired, thanks for checking in though, you didn’t have to_

He got a reply almost instantly.

_you’re one of my best friends, im going to worry about you no matter what. get some sleep before the trip_

George feels a laugh slip through his lips. In his blind panic about his dream, he had completely spaced the fact that the trip was now two days away. He laid back down and stared up at his ceiling. Two days. Two days and he’d finally get to meet his best friends for the first time. It felt strange having known them for so long, but never having actually met them in person. That warm feeling he had been growing used to feeling in his chest made it’s way up his neck and down into his stomach. He was actually going to meet them. 

Holy shit. He was **actually** going to meet them. He would get to hug them. They were real and he’d have actual proof of that in less than 48 hours. A wave of excitement washed over him. They had talked about meeting up for so long that it hadn’t seemed real when he purchased his ticket. The suitcase sitting in the corner of his room, having been packed for nearly a week already, a reminder that it was happening. He grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so excited for something and it was a great feeling. 

He sent a tweet on his second account.

_Can’t believe I’m actually meeting everyone in a few days… kind of crazy_

The tweet instantly blew up, the fans almost as exciting as they were. He put his phone down, deciding he should take Dream’s advice and get as much sleep as he could before the flight. There was no way any of them would get a decent amount of sleep being in the same house and George highly doubted he’d sleep on the plane simply because of excitement.

He closed his eyes once more, two thoughts drifting through his mind. One begging himself not to have another dream about his friend and the other being about the trip. He couldn’t think more on either of them as he managed to crash seconds later. He could deal with the dreams on the plane.


	2. They Took Us Somewhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick trigger warning of panic attacks and dissociation.
> 
> This is how I personally experience dissociation and since I have nothing else to base it on, it is how I wrote the episode in this chapter. I hope you enjoy :)

George didn’t consider himself a person who had many irrational fears, but flying was definitely one of them. He didn’t like anything about the experience from the fact that he was in a giant metal container in the sky, the air pressure, the turbulence, or the ever present idea that he could die. It was overall a terrible idea, but there was no other way for him to see his friends since he was the only person who didn’t live in America. 

He settled into his seat on the plane, desperately wishing he was anywhere else. He glanced out of the window, suddenly unsure if buying the window seat was the best idea. He’d wait to see if anyone sat next to him before moving. His phone vibrates.

_ you boarding soon? _

_ just did, see you all soon :) _

He quickly shuts his phone off. He was desperately trying to keep his panic down, there was logically no reason for him to be scared. Realistically, he knew that air travel was one of the safest methods of travel, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He could feel the tremor in his hands, his heart beating rapidly in his rib cage. He hated this.

Vaguely he can hear the take off announcement. No one sat to his right meaning he had his section alone, something he silently thanked the universe for. He didn’t want to put someone through the pain of sitting next to him for nearly 18 and a half hours. Fear squeezed his throat at the thought of being in this situation for 18 fucking hours. Blindly he fumbles with his small bag as he mentally told himself that once he took the medicine he packed then he would be ok.

After swallowing the pills, a wave of calm set over him. The rumbling of the plane gently shook through him. He glanced out the plane, startling at the sight of the clouds. He hadn’t realized they had gotten that high already.

“Can I get you something to drink, sir?” He jumps slightly, turning to look at the flight attendant.

“J-Just a water please,” He manages out with a weak smile.

She smiles back at him before moving on. George couldn’t understand how people did this as their job. On the other hand, the idea of being above the clouds for days on end seemed a passion one would choose as their lifestyle if they loved it enough. He looked back over the clouds and some part of him could understand it.

He took the cup of water, not registering how he couldn’t feel the plastic beneath his skin. He was just tired. He managed to down the entire cup. Why did they give such small cups on planes?

He clumsily pulled his headphones out and plugged them into his phone, turning on one of the playlists Bad had sent him. He let his head rest back on the Seat behind him, exhaustion finally taking over.

He startled awake, panic flooding his veins. He could feel his breath coming out in uneven puffs. He clamped a hand over his mouth and dropped his head onto the tray in front of him. Eventually, he felt the terror slowly leave his chest and he found it easier to breathe. He looked at the screen in front of him, the time reading that he still had 11 hours left in the flight. He heaved a sigh, wishing he could sleep the entire time. 

His “lunch” passes by quickly and he decides to try and sleep again. He succeeds, a surprise to him. He feels himself drifting, his head lolled to the side and resting next to the window. His senses felt off, his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton causing his music to sound distorted and the seat under his arms felt wrong. He let himself slip back into sleep.

His second time waking up was even less pleasant than his first. He was jolted awake by rought turbulence, the entire plane rattling around. Or at least to George’s sleep and panic filled brain it was. His hands immediately gripped the seat arms as his brain tried to calm him and throw him deeper into his panic simultaneously.

He vaguely recognizes that the plane is attempting its landing. His mind feels muddy, as if he wasn’t truly in his own head. His hands felt like they were full of static, his legs felt as if they were jelly. Everything felt wrong, his ears felt like they were full of cotton and he couldn’t process anything in front of him. It was like he was watching a movie on a TV that wouldn’t focus. 

The plane had stopped, part of him telling him he needed to get off of it and find his friends. He couldn’t feel the straps of his backpack as he picked it up off the floor to exit the plane, following the people in front of him that he couldn’t see clearly. 

He stumbled through the airport, confusion at every turn.

“H-Hello?” When had he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Are you alright? You sound like you’re going to cry,” Dream sounded miles away, even with his voice speaking directly into George’s ear.

“Where… um… wh-where are you?” He didn’t want to answer questions now, as if he even had the capability to.

“How about you tell us where you are and we come to you so you aren’t getting lost,” Dream offers.

George looks around, “I-I’m near a fountain with trees around it.”

He doesn’t hear the response, only pulling his phone away from his ear after seconds of silence. He leaned against the wall, attempting to figure out why he was so out of it. He hadn’t taken any more medicine, so he shouldn’t be drowsy. Why was he so out of it?

He doesn’t know how long he sat there, trying to drag himself out of the slump he was in when he felt a hand place itself on his shoulder. He flinches, moving to shove the person off when they speak.

“Woah, George it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Sapnap,” A voice cut through his blind panic, “Guys! I found him!”

More voices started breaking through his panic.

“Hey, can you breathe with me?” Dream.

His hand was placed against something soft, a voice in his head telling him to match the movement underneath his palm. 

“There you go,” Dream, “You’re doing so good.”

His fingers curled around the soft fabric and he leaned into, what he can only assume to be Dream. 

“I-I’m sorry,” He mumbles.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” Dream whispers, “Can I touch you?”

George furiously nods, feeling arms wrap around him and pull him tight. He felt his senses slowly return, the warmth from Dream radiating through his skin and into his bones, oddly reminiscent of his dream from mere days ago. The smell of citrus and basil filled his mind. The sound of the airport around him returned to it’s full volume. 

“Here,” Sam’s voice sounded from his left, “I have some water.”

He pulls away from Dream and takes the water, taking small sips. 

He looked at everyone standing around him, “Of course our first meeting would involve me having a panic attack in the middle of the airport.”

That draws a laugh out of everyone. They pull him into a group hug, he relishes in the feeling of being in the presence of his closest friends. He had finally met them. After years of not knowing, he finally knew.

That thought hit him like a train and his head snapped towards Dream. Green eyes, dirty blonde hair, freckles. He was beautiful. Dream glanced at him, sending a soft smile causing the tips of George’s ears to burn red hot. He was nothing like George had imagined, but  _ god he was perfect _ . When George found out Dream was 6’3”, he had a hard time imagining the exact height difference between them, but standing beside him was telling. Dream toward over him, when he had pulled George in earlier, he had almost completely covered George’s smaller frame. Normally, George hated when people called him short or fragile due to his stature, but he didn’t mind feeling small next to Dream. 

As they exited the airport and filed into the van they had rented, Dream and George claiming the front seats, George could only think of how lucky he was to have these people in his life.

Dream reached over and turned on soft music, some unknown song flooding through the car and mixing with the voices of his friends. Exhaustion settled deep into him as he melted into conversation with Ant and Velvet, occasionally sneaking a comment into Bad and Punz’s conversation as well. His head felt heavy and the conversation drifted from him. 

He knew sleeping now would cause hell for him later, but listening to the song playing and the laughter of his friends, he let himself drift off.


	3. We're Colors Falling Out Of Line

Heat bared down on him, warming him from the inside out. Unlike his previous dreams, he was vividly aware of the fact that he was dreaming. As he stared into the blue waves in front of him, the sound of them crashing against the sand calming him. 

He blinked, the scenery shifting to a living room and the noise to quiet talking and a movie. He had a blanket pulled over him and a pillow resting under his head. Disorientation muddled his thoughts, unsure of where he was, before realizing someone must have carried him into Dream’s house.

He sits up, soft creaking from his bones. He rubs his hands over his face in an attempt to shake away the last remains of his dream. He stands and makes his way towards his friends’ voices.

“Good morning sleepy Gogy,” He hears Punz tease. 

He glares at his friend, no real malice behind the look. He sits himself down next to Karl and rests his head against the younger boy’s shoulder. He wasn’t one for physical touch, but after an 18 hour flight through a constant panic attack, he was grateful for something to ground him to the present. Karl, ever the one for physical contact, reached up and ran a hand through George’s hair before setting his arm around his waist.

“Are you stil tired?” Quackity asks.

“He had a panic attack because of flying! Be nice!” Bad scolds.

Out of the corner of his eye, George could see Dream giving him a look. He couldn’t explain the look as anything other than slight jealousy which confused him, why would Dream be looking at him like that? Was it because of Karl?

He shook the thought from his head, he was overthinking. There would be no reason for Dream to be jealous of Karl having minimal physical touch with him. Dream didn’t return the feelings George had been desperately attempting to shove down his throat whenever they made their way behind his eyes. George was simply overthinking, as he always did.

“Do we have any plans?” He mumbles.

“Not for the rest of today or tomorrow, we wanted to give you time to adjust to American time zones,” Ant says.

He mumbles a thanks, still out of it from his excessive amount of sleep. 

“We planned on ordering pizza or takeout and just watching some movies later tonight,” Sapnap nudges his side, George’s own hand slapping Sapnap’s away.

“Sounds good to me, any specific movies?”

“Probably something stupid,” Velvet offers.

They ended up deciding on pizza and the worst rated Netflix movie they could find. Sapnap was currently curled up with Quackity and Karl on the floor in front of Ant and Velvet. Bad, Sam and Punz had claimed the couch as their own leaving George and Dream to fit on the other loveseat. Empty pizza boxes were littered around the room, a silent agreement to worry about it later, and whispers and giggles coming from the trio on the floor occasionally drifted across the room mixing with the sounds from the movie. They had barely gotten through fifteen minutes of the movie before conversations were started and phones pulled out.

George himself was scrolling through Twitter, desperately trying to ignore how close he was to Dream. Their legs were tangled together and he was nearly halfway on the other man’s lap. Dream had propped his arms on George’s thighs as he scrolled through his phone. He snuck glances at Dream every so often. That familiar warm sensation grew from his sternum to his stomach and throat every time he watched Dream laugh at something, but alongside it grew disgust at himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about his friend’s smile and how he wished it was caused by him. He shouldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be curled into his side or what his lips would feel like against his own. 

“You alright?” Dream’s soft voice startled him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, just still out of it I suppose,” George whispers back, trying to shove down the blush that was quickly rising up his neck.

“C’mere,” Dream murmurs as he opens his arms, inviting George closer.

He swallows thickly, unsure if he could trust himself being that close to his best friend. A voice in his mind, one that he wished he could shut up, whispers that it would ruin everything if he took the invitation Dream was laying out. He chose to ignore it, this was his first time seeing any of his friends and he wasn’t going to let the plague that poisoned his mind nightly ruin it like he had in the past. He shifts himself, switching positions to lay against Dream’s chest with his head tucked slightly under his jaw. There was something oddly domestic about the position and it felt as if they had done it hundreds of times, Dream’s arms felt like they fit perfectly around George and their legs intertwined comfortably with little adjustment. It felt like they were made to be together.

George lightly shook the thought from his head, he shouldn’t think like that. It would only end in heartbreak and him being left alone.

Dream’s hands snake around his waist as he turns his attention back to the shitty movie, George pretending to suddenly be extremely interested in the thread from Tubbo and Ranboo. He could feel Dream subconsciously playing with the strings of his hoodie, something about the gesture making George’s heart flutter. He let his head lean back onto the green hoodie, following Dream in pocketing his phone and turning his attention back to the movie.

George couldn’t focus on anything other than the burning touch of Dream’s hands on his waist. He could feel it scorching, leaving invisible red marks on his skin. George could only think Dream knew what he was doing, his hand had slipped under George’s hoodie and now rested on his hip. He traced shapes into the skin he found, lulling George into a trance. He found it coaxing him into tiredness. With this feeling, he felt as though nothing could turn sour. The voices of his friends drifted from him as his sole focus was the fingertips on his skin.

“You tired?”

All he could do was hum in response, his eyes had closed long ago as he clung to the conscious world. A hand runs through his hair, mimicking the gesture from Karl earlier, but this one left the hair on the back of his neck standing. He unconsciously moved, sliding closer to Dream and letting his head rest just under his chin and lazily throwing his arm across his chest. He feels fingers slowly slide into his palm and interlock with his own, heat radiating off of Dream’s neck.

“I-Is this alright…?” Dream whispers, sounding almost afraid of the answer he might receive.

“It’s perfect,” George manages to pull himself out of the haze he was in.

He shouldn’t be doing this, but as he sat there tucked in Dream’s arms, he found himself unable to see any wrong. He was happy and Dream was happy, why should there be anything wrong with that? 

He would deal with these thoughts tomorrow, right now he wanted nothing more than to stay where he was and enjoy it.


	4. Tear Apart The Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the massive break, I got motivation to write some other things and I'm still trying to push the last few out while catching up on all of my series. I hope you enjoy this new chapter :)

His eyes fluttered open, the arms around his waist ever present through his haze. He blinked, the house around him not one he recognized. 

“Morning sleepyhead,” Dream’s voice echoed through his chest.

“Morning…” He mumbles back.

He blinks and the two of them are standing in a kitchen. He is leaning against the counter, watching Dream cook breakfast. 

“Enjoying the show?” Dream taunts without turning towards George.

“Oh definitely,” He teases back, resting his chin on the palm of his hand while allowing his eyes to float.

“Pervert,” Dream laughs. 

“I can’t admire?” George grins and walks over to where Dream is standing, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist.

He blinks and the two of them are in their living room. George was sitting on Dream’s thighs and some show was playing through the room. Dream’s hands were resting on his thighs and it was all George could think about. Dream’s touch was fire and George was nothing more than a forest that stood by and watched as it burned to the ground under the fire’s warm embrace.

“This show sucks,” Dream mumbles against George’s neck.

“You haven’t even been watching it! It’s not that bad!” George says back.

Dream just whines, low and drawn out. It sends a shiver through George. He feels Dream gently kiss directly under his ear, slowly making his way up. Hands pull at his face, turning him towards his lover. Soft lips are pressed against his, the sounds of the show being drowned out immediately. They moved together in perfect harmony, clockwork moving together as if there was never been a time they had been apart. Hands make their way to cup his jaw as if holding him like thin glass that could shatter with a single wrong touch. He loved how Dream held him like this. He loved being treated delicately, but he also loved how Dream was never afraid to use rough touches and voices. Dream treated him like he was the moon, he had built the sun for George with his bare hands and he would do it all over again if it meant George could shine at his full brightness. He would do anything to make sure George was satisfied.

“I love you,” Dream whispers into the kiss.

George doesn’t respond, the words dying in his throat just as quickly as they formed. He wants to say them back, but nothing escapes his lips. Guilt weighs heavy on him.

“You don’t need to say it back. I know you mean it,” He wanted to cry. Dream was too nice to him.

He should’ve been turned away. So why was Dream still here?

Because at the end of the day, it was always him. It was always Dream.

He slowly opened his eyes, the room was lit only by the start of the sunrise. George could feel arms wrapped around his waist. He was still tucked against Dream, who was still fast asleep. He sat in complete silence, relishing in the soft breathing that sounded from his friends. It was another reminder that he was actually with them. Gone was the screen that held them apart. He could actually see them, touch them.

George, still half asleep, blindly searched for Dream’s hand once more. He finds it and gives it a small squeeze, a mental reminder that he was really here, not expecting one back. However, to his surprise, he feels Dream squeeze back. A smile forms on his face as he is reminded of his dream. He is starting to have a hard time discerning dreams from reality, but that was an issue he could face when he was more awake and not slowly drifting back to sleep. He felt safe. Here, curled up against his best friend on a small loveseat, he has never felt safer. It’s a strange thought to him, being safe in his own skin. 

Part of him realizes it was because his friends always saw the best parts of him, never the rotten. If the rot ever spread too far then they would be there to chip it away and return him to his normal state. He felt so safe around them because they felt safe around him. This wasn’t a one way street as he had once thought it was. 

He was in silent shock at the revelation he had just come to. He could feel his hands shaking.

“George…?” Dream mumbles.

“S-sorry, did I wake you?” He whispers back, taking into account how his voice shook.

He feels Dream sit up, moving both of them, “It’s alright, are you okay? You’re crying.”

George looks into the green eyes, confused. He was crying? He reached up and touched his face, pulling his hand away in shock when he felt tears coat his cheek. 

“I didn’t realize,” He says and furiously wipes at his eyes.

Hands grab his and pull them away from his face, “Hey, hey. Don’t do that, if you rub too hard you might hurt yourself.”

Dream pulls him into a hug, gently running his hands up and down George’s back. The movement pulls more tears from George and he tries to muffle his sobs as much as he could. Dream quietly comforts him, but makes no movements to stop him.

Eventually, George’s sobs turn into nothing more than dried tear tracks and quiet hiccups. His eyes feel heavy again and he can tell Dream is also on the verge of falling asleep again as well.

“We can talk about this tomorrow if you’re up to it,” Dream says, letting his hand run through George’s hair like yesterday.

George can only hum in response. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He never wants to talk about it, but this isn’t a one way road. 

It’s never been a one way road and he needed to stop treating it like one.


	5. Let's Make It Greyscale

They had been “living” together for nearly two weeks now and everyone had found a rhythm. Velvet and Ant had left so they could see each other alone. Sam and Bad were always the first two awake and Bad loved cooking, so he had taken the liberty of making breakfast. Dream and Karl were the next up, followed by Punz and Quackity, then Sapnap and finally George. They had grown used to his strange sleep schedule, however, they hadn’t been aware that it was that out of whack in the beginning. They knew it was a mess, they just weren’t prepared for the full force of it. Sometimes Sam would wake up to find George still awake in the living room and he would have to do a double take. 

Today was one of those days.

“George, you should go to bed,” Sam says, walking past him to the kitchen.

George doesn’t take his eyes off his computer screen, “I will soon.”

“Are you alright?” Sam asks, suddenly appearing back in the living room.

George jumps slightly, “Y-Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

Sam looks at him concerned, “You’ve been staying up late and you always have this spaced out look when I come downstairs.”

“I… um…” George hesitates, “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“It seems like a lot more than that. You know you can talk to me, right?” Sam sits next to him.

George stays silent for a couple of seconds, “Have you ever fallen for someone you can’t have?”

The question seems to shock Sam as he takes a few seconds to respond.

“I can’t say I have… is this about someone specific?”

George hums, “Maybe…? I just- I don’t know what to think, he’s been the only thing I can think about for weeks now.”

“He?” Sam questions, “Is this about Dream?”

He drops his head, giving Sam his answer.

“It’s been happening for weeks now, I hate feeling like this.”

“Why?” George falters at Sam’s question.

Why did he hate feeling like this?

“Because I can ruin my friendship with him?” It came out more confused then he would’ve liked.

Sam looks at him like he was stupid, “You really think Dream would cut you off for something like that? Dream? The guy you’ve been best friends with for how long now?”

George knows he’s right. He was being irrational, but that part of him was louder than any other part of him. It always persuaded him no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. 

“I-I…” He tries to come up with an excuse, but he can’t find anything, “Then- Well… what should I do then?”

“What do you want to do about it?”

“I want to be his.” Is all he can respond with.

“What’s stopping you then?”

That’s all Sam leaves him with. He sits alone as the sun continues to rise. What was stopping him?

He felt sick. He couldn’t think of his friend like that. 

He tried to avoid touching Dream at all costs. If Sam noticed, he didn’t mention it. After a few days, Dream had stopped trying to initiate it. George hated the part of him that missed his warmth. 

He wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be. Besides, Dream didn’t like him like that, so there was no point in indulging in the fantasies that plagued him at night. The scenes that played in his mind left the bitter taste of bile on his tongue in the morning. Soft hands and even softer lips haunted his every waking moment. It felt as though the more he tried to stop them, the more they filled his head. 

One particular night left him nearly in tears. Hands gripped at his hips leaving beautiful purple hips in their place matching the shades of red that bloomed across his neck. The whispers that floated across the room never left his ears as he made eye contact with those green eyes the next morning. 

He choked on the images when they filled his mind and his lungs. They consumed all of him and carried him with their current. He was powerless against these tidal waves.

He was helpless to those freckles that dotted across high strung cheekbones and strong jawlines. They pulled him in no matter how hard he fought against them.

He was being swallowed by this feeling and it made him ill. 

As he gazed into those green eyes, he desperately wished his world was less colorful. He wished he couldn’t see the shade, he wished everything were grey. He wouldn’t be able to imagine the heart fluttering color then. 


	6. Saints Are The Sinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light NSFW warning for this chapter, nothing explicit though :)

“What’s going on with you?” Sapnap asks while the two of them are alone at the table.

“What do you mean?” George questions, not looking up from his phone.

Sapnap sighs, “I mean, why are you avoiding Dream suddenly?”

“Did he ask you to say this?” George bristles.

“No,” Sapnap says quietly, “I’ve noticed how it’s affected both of you and I’m just worried.”

He couldn’t just tell Sapnap what was really going on. That would be a mistake.

“Did you two get into a fight?”

“No. We’re fine.”

“Bullshit.”

George cocks an eyebrow, “I beg your pardon?”   


“That’s such fucking bullshit and you know it.”

“It’s none of your goddamn business, Sapnap.” He says with more venom then he intended.

“It is when it concerns my best friend.”

He scoffed, “Whatever.”

He gets up to leave, but a hand grabs his wrist. He turns to glare at Sapnap.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from this.”

“Let me go. Now.”

“Not until you tell me why the fuck you’re ignoring him.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

“No, but you owe him.” That gets George to stop fighting against the hand squeezing his wrist.

The fiery look in Sapnap’s eyes dulls when he sees George crumble. 

“I-I think I like him…” George whispers, it’s barely audible and he thanks the gods that no one else is home.

A look of realization passes over Sapnap’s face. 

“Oh George,” He mumbles.

Sapnap pulls him into a hug. George blinks a few times, he wasn’t expecting this, but slowly he melts into his friend’s hold. He feels that familiar sting in his eyes.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” He spills everything, “Every glance or touch. I can’t forget them. It’s like he’s melting me.”

Melted was too intimate for what this was. Dream didn’t melt him. No, Dream burned him. He left scorch marks across George’s skin with every touch. Every whisper filled his ears with ash and drowned the words of love out, replacing them with cold thoughts. He wanted it to stop. He didn’t want to be burned alive, he wanted to melt. He hated the feeling of his skin being kissed by flames that never healed, only hurt. 

“I want it to stop.” He whispers.

“Dream is too addicting for it to be that easy.” 

“I know… I hate him.”

They don’t speak on the matter again, but George tries to open back up around Dream. So here he sits, his back pressed against Dream’s chest. The feeling of his breathing is enough to start luring George into a tired haze. Dream, Sapnap, and Punz were playing some card game and George had taken to playing with Dream’s free hand. His hand was so much bigger than George’s. George’s hands were long and slender with thin fingers. Dream’s hands were thicker, the prominent viens running on the backside of them a dark blue. Dream always returned his hand to George when he needed to pull away. 

Dream’s voice rumbled through his chest as an argument broke out amongst the three. George was half asleep and let out a whine as he burried his nose against Dream’s jaw. He vaguely hears Dream shush the other two.

“Has he been sleeping at all?” Punz whispers.

“No, he’s always still awake when me and Sam get up.” Bad answers. 

George feels an arm snake around his waist and pull him closer. He wants to pull away. He knows he should and it’s so tempting, but the firm hand on his waist keeps him in place. His mind drifts to the difference in hand size again as he imagines Dream’s hand gently wrapped around his neck and praise being whispered into his ear.

_ You’re doing so well.  _

_ God, you’re so fucking beautiful.  _

“George?” Dream’s voice snaps him back, “Do you want to go upstairs to your actual room?”

There’s a teasing edge to his voice that does nothing for George’s sleep deprived mind. 

He nods his head, but makes no movement to stand up eliciting laughs from everyone in the room.

“Are you going to make me carry you?” Dream asks.

“Mhmm,” George hums.

He squeaks when he’s lifted off the ground. He clings to Dream as he starts walking towards George’s room. 

He expects to be dropped onto his bed, but instead Dream places him as gently as he can. He slides his hands from Dream’s shoulders to his hands as he is placed on the bed. 

Dream goes to leave only for George to grip his wrist tightly. 

“What’s the matter George?”

George is on the verge of being fully asleep. 

His words are slurred slightly, “I want to tell you somethin’...”

“Of course, you can tell me anything.”

“I think ’m in love with you…”

Dream stops, “Wh-What?”

He looks down at George, but the older man is fast asleep. His grip on Dream’s wrist slips and hits the sheets.

God, he’s going to regret this tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter till the story ends! I'm currently working on a new dream team fic plus a Dreamnap one, a SBI one, and working to finish up older unfinished works, so don't worry too much :)
> 
> Thank you for all the support on this <3


	7. Make It Real, Make It Dangerous

“Can we talk?” That was never good.

No one else was home. It was just him and Dream. 

“Yeah, sure! What’s up?” He tried to keep his voice as level as he could.

“Do you remember that night when I carried you to your room?” Dream asks.

George’s blood runs cold. Did he say something he shouldn’t have? 

He shakes his head, “Uh- No, I don’t…”

“Oh… well-” Dream pauses, “I just- You said something that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”

Fuck.

“You said you were falling in love with me.”

_ Fuck. _

His throat feels tight and his eyes burn. He turns on his heel and rushes to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He sinks to the floor with his back pressed against the cold wood. His fingers interlock with his hair as he pulls harshly. 

“George?!” There are panicked knocks sounding from behind him.

He knows. He knows and he’s going to think you’re fucking disgusting. One of his hands flies to his mouth to muffle the sobs that spilled from his lips. He had ruined everything. He should just buy a ticket back to England now. 

“George I need you to answer me before I open the door myself.” Dream commands. His voice is so soft that it pulls another sob from George.

“I-I’m so-rry,” George mumbles through his hiccups.

“You don’t need to apologize, just please open the door,” He begs.

“Promise you won’t be mad.” George whispers.

His response is immediate, “I promise.” 

George fumbles with the door and hesitantly pulls it open. He can’t meet Dream’s eyes. He doesn’t deserve to. He took advantage of his friend. He’s disgusting. 

A hand cups his face and softly tilts his head up so he’s forced to lock eyes with Dream. He expects anger or disgust, fuck, even betrayal would be better than what he finds. The look on Dream’s face is so kind and full of concern. George can feel his lip tremble as they sit in silence.

“Why did you run?” Dream asks, his voice is quiet as if he’s scared of startling George.

“I was scared.”

“Scared of me?”

“No… never you.”

Dream traces George’s cheek with his thumb and watches as he leans into the touch. He steps closer to the shorter man. George reaches up and gently holds Dream’s wrist.

“This is wrong,” George whispers, his mind screaming at him to move, but he stood firm.

Dream leans in, never taking his eyes away from George’s, “Then let’s be wrong, if only for one night.”

He wants to stop Dream. No- no, he doesn’t want to stop him. He’s wanted this for so long. Dream closes the gap between them and George is overwhelmed. He remembers how people would describe a first kiss with fireworks, but they were wrong. As he sat there, focusing on the way Dream’s other hand came to rest on his hip and pulled him closer, there were no fireworks or explosions. Rather, he was floating. Every part of him felt weightless. Every sense was being consumed by Dream. 

They pull apart, pupils blown wide and faces flushed. Their foreheads are pressed together as they relock their eyes. 

“Still think it’s wrong?” Dream asks.

George would be able to hear the smile in his voice if he couldn’t see the man’s face, but god was he glad he could see it. 

“God no,” He sounds breathless, “Don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

Dream smiles at him before reconnecting their lips. George’s hand flies to Dream’s shoulder, bunching the fabric of his shirt in his fist. He thought he would be thrown out. Hell, he was planning his flight back home. This isn’t what he expected, but he couldn’t be happier. 

Dream suddenly pulls away, “You scared the shit out of me earlier.”   
  
“I’m sorry,” George whispers.

“What were you scared of?”

“I was scared I would lose you.”

Dream pulls his hand away from George’s face and grabs his hand. He brings it to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to the palm, “You aren’t going to lose me anytime soon.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice shakes slightly as he voices his fear.

“Not even death can keep me from you.” Dream promises.

George presses his forehead against Dream’s and feels Dream wipe away the drying tears.

“You’re a pretty crier,” Dream teases.

George laughs, “I’m not.”

“You definitely are!”

George pulls Dream down, effectively silencing him with another kiss. He doesn’t want to ever stop kissing Dream. 

“I never thought you could see me like this,” Dream mumbles.

George smiles against Dream’s lips, “I was just too colorblind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S A WRAP!! I'm going to start focusing on older series, so if you enjoy the dream smp story then check those out!
> 
> Thank you for all the support on this :D <3


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